


Pawn

by perniciousOverkill



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: A Surprising Lack of Gore Considering The Fandom?, Blowjob Written In Excruciatingly Blunt Detail, Chess, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Implied Sexual Assault, Not Sexy Smut, Oral Sex, Out of Character, Smut, Unsexy, blowjob, implied rape, rape flashbacks, sex fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perniciousOverkill/pseuds/perniciousOverkill
Summary: He never really cared.She was just a pawn.(You give Strade a blowie, but it's deeper than that).
Relationships: Strade (BTD/TNR)/Reader, Strade (BTD/TNR)/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Pawn

The dorm was small, 11 by 15, and brought the two closer together. The candlelight amidst the blackout only added to the tension. They were playing a game of chess on the single bed, careful not to move to keep the board upright.

(It never needed to be said, but Strade was about to win.)

Silently, his rook to her king, and he held up the piece in front of her eyes, just to drive the message home. She huffed at the sight, crossing her arms over her chest as he slid the piece away into a small box. Even the way he packaged the pieces was meticulous; one at a time, pinched by the top with two fingers, in board-order. She watched him without saying a word.

(They rarely felt the need to talk.)

He slid the chess box underneath her bed, where they always kept it if only for a sense of mystery. Her mind wandered as he did so…

(Finals.

Have I reviewed my flashcards?

Not enough.

When he leaves, I’ll go over them.

Maybe he would help me study?

No, he wouldn’t.

Not his style.

He’d make fun of me.)

“Hey.”

She hummed as she looked up, jolted slightly out of her trance. He was smiling at her, one hand on her knee.

“Lost’ya there for a second.”

“Sorry. Just thinking.”

His touch lingered. “Penny for your thoughts.”

“Just tests and stuff… boring shit.”

“Yeah.” His smile never wavered; maybe it was… genuine? That seemed more incredulous than him just being an incredibly good actor.

(They had been friends since the dawn of time, and she had learned that what was genuine for Strade was very different from what was common. His smile was warm and inviting, but his smile was different when they were truly alone, away from cameras and windows and publics.

He had made her watch as he skinned a neighbourhood dog. He told her that it was for a science project, and that he needed her to be his ‘very special assistant’. She cried and begged him not to, listening to the howls of the animal, and the sight of his smile was ingrained into her head, the residue of a bright light in your eyes. At some point, she had passed out from the wear of her tears, and woke up in the hospital; but the first thing that she saw was not the fluorescent lights above her, and the first thing she heard was not the beeping of her heart monitor. It was the twisted curve of his smile, and the echo of the creature that bled out onto the grass.)

He slowly drew his hand away from her, leaning back onto his elbows. The silence slowly wafted back into the room as she crawled towards him, lying down on her side next to him and looking up at him with doe eyes from beneath her lashes. She allowed memories of her childhood with him to flood back to her, at first gradually, soft waves on the milky white sand, and suddenly, all at once, giant tsunamis wrecking through her psyche, knocking her off of her feet.

_That night was the biggest party of the year, the Halloween party thrown by a group of kids in their grade who were, by definition, the popular kids. Strade had driven her to the party, but it wasn’t long before she lost him in the crowds of dancing people._

_She, by nature, was codependent, so tearfully, she wandered through the large mansion looking for him, trying her best not to make a scene. Drunk kids melded into one mass of movement, perfectly synced and equally wasted. Nobody knew Strade; she couldn’t ask._

_A hand reached out from the ocean of bodies and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into a brick wall of a chest. A boy, whose face was shrouded in shadows, grinned down at her, iron clad grip on her arm._

_“Dance with me.”_

_“No, I have to find my friend.”_

_“I’ll help you.”_

_He dragged her about the house for what felt like hours, trying his best to strike of slurred conversation between the two of them. She was not there. Her mind was with Strade, in a quiet field, talking about the universe and love and sorrow. Anywhere but here. The hand that pulled her into a guest bedroom was Strade._

_The lips… the hands… the…_

_“Get off of me. Go away.”_

_“You’re so pretty.”_

_She was powerless in fighting against him; he towered over her in every way. Every hit was like a joke to him._

_Why are you laughing?_

_She called out for help. She called out for Strade. She begged for mercy._

_He laughed._

_Ding dong. The doorbell. She opened it. When did the night pass?_

_“I didn’t see you last night…. you look like shit.”_

_She sobbed as she clung onto him after that, explaining what happened to her. He asked for details. He reveled in the details. He was excited._

_“Where were you? I called for you, I looked for you… I needed you.”_

_“You know Jess? She’s a senior. I hooked up with her.”_

_The words came like 5 punches in succession, straight to the gut. The laugh played like a broken record in her head. Her world had been crumbling around her while he had been fucking some senior._

_Strade laughed._

_“Get the fuck out.”_

_“What?”_

_“Get the fuck out!”_

_Before he could ask, she was shoving him out the door, screaming and crying, a ruined mess._

_That was how she learnt that she loved him._

_He_ made _her love him._

“I have a boner.” Strade stated, offhand.

“Hmm?” Her heart was pounding, the headspace haunting her.

He laughed.

“Do you wanna give me a blowjob?” He looked at her, blank, as if he just asked if they wanted to get take-out.

“I… what?”

“Nothing personal. Just… you’re here.”

She loved him.

“Sure, I guess… okay. Yeah. Okay.”

He chuckled at her. “Okay.”

She awkwardly fumbled to her knees on the floor, shaky hands reaching up to try and open his belt.

“Calm down. I don’t want chattering teeth around my dick.”

“Sorry.”

His hands joined hers, his calloused and strong. They were calm, one of his resting on one of hers to calm her, and the other assisting her in tugging his jeans past his hips, down to his ankles. Her fingers, which she was trying with all her might to keep still, reached around the waistband of his boxers. He was getting impatient, but he still waited for her to calm herself.

Her eyes were glued to the mattress as his erection sprung free.

This was… new. Why today of all days was lost on her.

“You’ve never done this before.” She shook her head. “Use your hands first. Like a warmup.”

She wrapped her fingers around his cock, adjusting to the texture of skin and precum.

“Move your hands up and down.”

“I know what a hand job is, Strade.”

“Then do it.” He snapped; the threat was soft, but present.

Her hand started to stroke up and down, her eyes still looking anywhere but at it. The only way she knew if she was doing something right was his vocal response. He groaned, letting out a quiet ‘shit’. Her thumb brushed over his tip and pressed down lightly, and he choked on his breath, his hand coming into pull her off of him.

“Okay, use your mouth now.”

He shuffled forward to the edge of the bed, and she looked up at him, waiting for a cue.

“Well? Go on.”

She was confronted by his erection in her face, one of hands on his base. One reassuring breath to herself, and she leaned in, licking a stripe up along his cock, and then kissing just the tip. She went back in, playing it safe. In her head, it was just like… a popsicle. He came down on her, forcing her lips to touch her fingers. Gag reflexes came in strong as she choked, threatening to puke all over him.

“Mmm, that’s so good.”

He let go of her, and she came up for air, coughing. Stars twinkled across her eyeline. Fingers grabbed her hair roughly, shoving her back down onto his cock.

“Move on your own.”

Her head bobbed up and down, gagging at the base each time as his tip teased the back of her throat. Whatever she wasn’t taking in her mouth, her hands covered. She knew it was working; his thighs trembled below her. The sheets were pulled tense below her, him gripping them for stability.

He climaxed fast, his salty cum spilling over into her mouth. She pulled away, heading towards the bathroom to spit.

“Where are you going?”

She simply pointed at the bathroom, trying her best not to just cough it out all over the floor.

“Swallow it. That’s hotter.”

Her eyes spoke of disgust, and contempt, but with an exaggerated gulp, she swallowed it, wiping her mouth clean with the sleeve of her hoodie.

“What does it taste like?”

“Bad.”

He seemed upset over that, pulling up his jeans and boxers back up over himself. She rinsed her hands off in the small bathroom, able to smell his dick all over her. The smell didn’t seem to dissipate however.

“That was pretty good for your first time.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you a full on virgin?”

“Yeah.”

“Really… has anybody ever touched your tits?”

“No.”

She wouldn’t admit it, but the conversation made her uncomfortable. She knew in his head that it was a turn on, a tease, a lion playing with a mouse, so she wouldn’t break the news to him that it was actually just… well, blunt.

“Alright, I’m gonna head home.” She didn’t say goodbye to him as he left. They never did.

He hated formalities. Always said that they were just cages that were meant to imprison people into a societal complacency or something like that. Unsurprisingly, he was a philosophy major.

The smell lingered on her skin. His smell. The way he talked to her also followed her… he talked to her like a small child who didn’t yet understand the intricacies of conversation. It was diminishing, but somehow, it was what she was used to.

She hated him, and was desperately in love with him.

For a brief moment, she had thought that they were becoming something more but she was actually just another pawn to him. He was the king- no, the queen of the chessboard, and she was waiting to be tossed away.

She imagined him touching her that night; she imagined what it would feel like the other way around, his lips on her body. It set her ablaze. Too bad she didn’t know how to put it out.


End file.
